


breathing bypass silence-like

by catpoop



Category: Piranesi - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Canon Universe, Gen, One Shot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: “Sometimes [the sea] swept over me… I was saved.” (Clarke, 2020, p. 234)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	breathing bypass silence-like

**Author's Note:**

> this is so blatantly, blatantly self-indulgent. that being said, i hope someone still enjoys it

In the peak of Summer, when the Sun smiles through the Windows and the Stars themselves hide away until the deepest hours of the Night, the Oceans of the House also change. The Tides crash through Vestibules and roar up Staircases and bring with them, though damp and force, a warmth that Piranesi welcomes. No more cruelly shaped by Winter’s hand into fearsome daggers and knife-blades, Piranesi can walk into the shallow Waters and return unscathed. 

And though the sound of the Tides battering the Walls has never brought to him fear, in Summer Piranesi can rest knowing the warmth of a nearby Friend swells in the belly of the House. The sea-birds bathe and rustle their feathers and Piranesi does the same. A herring gull dips its head below the drowsy Water and Piranesi, after ensuring he will not disturb the nearby birds, lies down on his back. 

The Sea, tamed by the Summer heat and mellowed by its distance from the Lower Halls, sweeps over Piranesi’s face and into his eardrums with the gentle croon of a mother. He smiles. For a moment, there is not a whistle of Wind in the Air, nor the single cry of a bird, and the marble Floor at his back fades into an eerie quiet. 

The Tides pull away to tickle his feet and Piranesi blinks at the Ceiling, face wet.

When the Tide returns, it lingers a little longer. Seeps salt into his ears and closed eyes a millisecond longer, then dances away almost playfully. Piranesi closes his fingers around nothing and lies there, waiting. And then it comes back, as surely and steadfastly as the House has always been, charted in lines and numbers and graphs, and would Piranesi count the seconds of indulgent underwater quiet, if the numbers themselves had not been temporarily erased from his head.

In the depths of his mind, Piranesi knows he has many errands to tend to – to feed and shelter himself, to conduct science and research – but he allows himself another Tide. Then another. And all the while, the birds flock and play and the marble Tile is swept clean, again and again and again.

Only when the Tide submerges everything for long enough to nearly steal the Air from his lungs does Piranesi sit upright. His leaden limbs, no longer made fluid, creak as he elevates himself to standing and complains as he gazes down at the unremarkable spot in which he had nearly made his home. The Water rises to cover his ankles, and though the summer Sun is still high and bright, Piranesi gives an involuntary shiver. 

He must return to the Middle Halls. He is soaked, belly vacuous, and parched for Fresh Water. His Tables and Catalogues need tending to. Piranesi wrings the wet from his clothes and ascends. 

When he curls into his bed come nightfall, Piranesi fancies the Floor swaying beneath him with the ebb of the Tides.

As a born researcher and Man of science, the House has naturally entrusted Piranesi with many a great responsibility. In turn, he respects the fearsome thunderstorm, gazes upon the depths of the roiling Ocean, pays witness to the beauty of the Statues. The House longs for a companion, and Piranesi, humble custodian, treads the Middle Halls with the feet he was bestowed. It feels ungracious to be distracted by the siren call of the Lower Halls – they were not made for birds and men, after all – but Piranesi reasons that the House must have its Reasons. 

He ventures deeper once more, first to the lapping of curious Tides, then deeper, to the dark recesses of the Drowned Halls and the Oceans. He fears he might see his reflection if he looks too closely – and then never again the light of Day if he stoops closer still. Piranesi climbs down to a familiar fishing-spot, for once without the burden of fishing equipment. The Middle Halls call beseechingly to him from above, but the Waves whisper louder.

_‘Why have you called me here?’_ Piranesi responds, though silently. The Sea is not so loud today. _‘Why must you distract me so?’_

The Darkness shimmers and bends and only beckons him closer, and Piranesi sighs. The marble outcropping beneath him is sturdy and secure, and he can risk edging closer to its lip, to peer, dangling, into the depths of the Ocean. 

It is not benign and translucent like the calm Tides above. It hides within it jagged edges and detritus, and Piranesi knows that if he were to submerge himself – eyes and ears and nose – he would soon be carried away to Unknown depths. He stares and stares, and the House offers no answer to the swirling curiosities in his brain.

When he finally departs, his footsteps are echoed by the lingering susurrus of waves.

**Author's Note:**

> boutta dunk my head in the nearest body of water and Hard Reset. god this literally is the most self-indulgent of my published fics thank u piranesi for providing me a cover  
> may add a part 2 if it appears to me
> 
> [tumblr](https://swummeng-geys.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hashtag_yikes)


End file.
